Another reason every mother should have date night

What a day!

• spilled milk all over the place (seeping through the different parts of the table and the floor)
• to the shops with a walking toddler who insisted on taking her doll in the small pram
• playground with both kids for picnic
• Marie got hit by a swing and ended up covered in sand. Eyes, mouth, snotty nose. As if she'd been sculpted entirely out of sand.
• Had to take her, crying, and a pram, on the walk to take Jack back to school.
• School gate closed. Huge detour to get to other side of school. Did I mention the crying toddler covered in sand and the small bloody pram?
• Obviously Marie had to go in the bath before her nap. What with the fucking sand. (I'm sure I've mentioned this.) Forgot about sand in shoes. My bathroom now resembles a desert vista.
• Thank fuck for naptime, is all I can say. Even got some sleep myself.
• Another school run.
• Dermatologist for verruca. At the lovely hospital of many stairs. Miraculously we hardly had to wait.
• Chemist to deliver foot cream prescription.
• Had to deliver on earlier bribe "Be good at doctors and you can have picnic in garden."
• Back to chemist to pick up foot cream.

And now date night. I have no energy. But I see it as a little present. I could go to sleep or hang in front of the TV all night. Instead, I get to sit outside on a terrace with my lovely husband, enjoying a spaghetti and the unseasonably warm weather. Worth squeezing out the extra five drops of energy I have left.